


Elements

by loveanddeathandartandtaxes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveanddeathandartandtaxes/pseuds/loveanddeathandartandtaxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John sighed.  ”For the love of God, what happened?”</p><p>With a sigh, Sherlock began rucking up his shirt, undoing a few buttons to ease the way, pulling the fabric impatiently to reveal his ribs on his left-hand side.</p><p>"Um."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Practicefortheheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Practicefortheheart/gifts).



Sherlock’s never been modest - not until now, anyway. They’d both wandered the kitchen and living room in a towel or dressing gown before, and yeah, John had been sneaking glances. The last week, though, he’d taken to never leaving bedroom or bathroom without being properly dressed, and for a few days he’d been holding himself rather gingerly.

"You’re not on a case without me, are you," John started.

"Obviously not."

"Good. Because I’m wondering if you got into a fight or something, Sherlock, and I’m wondering why the _hell_  you didn't come to me for help if you did.”

"I -" Sherlock cut himself off, and John could see calculations in his eyes. "I haven’t been in a physical fight in weeks. I’m gasping."

"No fight club, no cocaine, no cigarettes," John reminded him. "What is it, then?"

He was surprised to see Sherlock’s cheeks colouring.

"It was… a little unplanned. I was learning the new roadways just north of Bart’s, and it sort of just happened."

John sighed. ”For the love of God, what happened?”

With a sigh, Sherlock began rucking up his shirt, undoing a few buttons to ease the way, pulling the fabric impatiently to reveal his ribs on his left-hand side.

"Um."

The french that spilled from Sherlock's lips was undoubtedly a curse.

"Just forget it."

"No! No. I like it." He reached out to skim a fingertip over Sherlock’s tattoo. Four squares arranged themselves down his side, looking for all the world like elements from the periodic table, except that they were… not. _WS_ said one, and _GL_ , and _MH_ , with the uppermost one _JW_.

"M.H.?" He teased. "Does brother dear know?"

"It’s for _Mummy_ ,” Sherlock corrected archly. “Or Molly.”

"W.S. for your dad, then, and G.L. for Lestrade. He’d be chuffed. And. And."

A pair of comically large hands pressed his own hand to the inked flesh, and John could feel Sherlock’s heart beating beneath his initials.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "And."

**Author's Note:**

> This started life as an askbox drabble - http://loveanddeathandartandtaxes.tumblr.com/post/96540227775/ahhhhh-youre-onlineeeee-send-me-some-nice-drabbles-or


End file.
